


This isn't Detroit?

by SatanAteMyWotsits



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (for a little bit), (later on), Angst, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Detective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, First time poster so be nice, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Whump, connor not knowing how to human, dad tony, homeless connor, im still figuring it out, time/dimensional travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-07-02 01:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanAteMyWotsits/pseuds/SatanAteMyWotsits
Summary: Connor wakes up in New York, 2010, and he needs to find his way back home without being discovered. Tony is kind.Contains Dad!Tony (and Dad!Hank but Hank is only mentioned)This is my first fic on here so feedback would be amazingI'm terrible at titles so that one will have to do.MultiChapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few uncanonical universe alterations:  
> -Cyberlife was founded a decade earlier for the sake of the plot  
> -Deviants can feel pain  
> -Androids can go for roughly a week without charging - it all depends on how much energy they exert

Connor squinted as light suddenly burned his eyes. Blinking, he focused, seeing only a tree canopy above him. What? He sat up slowly, his hands grasping into the soft earth below. He seemed to be in some sort of park in a city, as he quickly spotted buildings through the trees. He attempted to stand, before folding in on himself, falling to the ground. His head throbbed due to an increased pressure of thirium to his mind. A migraine. He shut his eyes again and breathed, as Hank had taught him to do when faced with a challenging problem to keep calm. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know where Hank was, and he was currently immobilised.

After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and tried again. Slower, this time. Careful. As he successfully pushed himself to his feet, he managed to get a better look around. In the foreground there were trees, but 23.57 meters away was a stone path and a bench by its side. An old man was sleeping on it, bundled up in layer upon layer of coats and blankets. Connor looked around more. Surrounding all sides, buildings peeked through the trees and bushes, just enough to be noticed, but not as much to intrude on the peace that nature created. His eyes strained as he tried to grasp exactly his location until he saw a glimpse of a yellow car. And then another. He scanned. It was a New York City ‘medallion taxicab' meaning it was after 1996, as medallions were not sold until after that year in New York. No surrounding taxis were green ‘boro taxis', indicating that Connor was currently in New York, some point before August, 2013.

It wasn't often that Connor swore, but he felt the urge to after this discovery. And if that wasn't strange enough, Connor couldn't detect any signs of CyberLife anywhere. In the 2000s, CyberLife had already developed Thirium 310 and working biocomponents, and by 2012, Chloe was introduced to the public as the first android to pass the Turing Test. It was everywhere. Connor spotted a newspaper under the man's arm. He sleeping on the bench. Maybe if he got close enough he could check the date and look for any headlines that relate to androids.

He lifted his foot slowly to ensure the joints hadn't seized. After rolling his foot several times, he placed it down on the grass without a sound, shifting the weight and continuing at a slow pace. When he reached the entirely. Trying, he realised his thumb was covering some of the date, but he could make out ‘September 2010'. The front page ‘Mysterious death of baby boy found unconscious in theme park' had no mention of robots at all, let alone CyberLife or androids.

That couldn't be right, could it? He accessed the local server. It was the 5th of September, 2010.

Not only was he in a different time, he was in a different universe entirely.

Trying to stay calm, Connor breathed again. Slowly, in, and out. He had to prioritise, and thus let his emotions slip away behind the mask of his mission.

**Find a disguise.**

It seemed like a simple enough task, but he couldn't allow himself to be seen at all. He took off his jacket, turning it inside out so that it couldn't be read as he carried it. What else? His LED. He really didn't want to remove it. He didn't want to lose himself, he wanted that reminder there of everything he was ripped away from. It would be so painful. He filtered through alternatives. He glanced over at the man. He had a large beanie that had slipped off his head, now resting by his cheek. Connor's LED fluttered red. Was he really willing to steal? It seemed like his only option. With guilt sitting heavy in his stomach, he carefully slid the hat from him and tugged it on his own head, positioning his hair and the hat in a way that completely covered the light.

**Find money.**

Connor left the area, awkwardly shuffling as his limbs still adjusted to the movement. He needed money to get better clothes, as the beanie/shirt and tie look reflected contrasting classes. Contrast meant attention, and Connor would do well to avoid that. He also needed a bag to keep his jacket and other possessions in so that he didn't have to carry them. He removed his tie and hid it under the jacket so he would appear less formal, then stepped out of the park.

There were so many people. Everywhere he looked, face after face. His eyes darted between them as he tried to scan them all before he stopped himself. Where would someone like him go when they needed money? He could steal s- NO. He felt guilty enough for taking the hat. He ducked into the nearest alleyway across the street to see what he could find, when he spotted a large tub. That would work. Then he positioned himself against a wall on the busy street and began to play the tub like a drum with his hands. He thought about the music Hank listened to and recreated each beat. Hank... what was he doing right now? Did he even know Connor had gone? He shook his head at those thoughts. Concentrate on the mission.

After a few minutes of playing, somebody dropped a dollar at his feet. He pocketed it, and with a small ‘thank you!' he continued to play. He was beginning to enjoy the music, feeling it in his core as if he himself was its creator. He played passionately, he was probably a sight to laugh at but he didn't care. He then thought of older songs Hank liked, something that existed in 2010. He began to play the beat of ‘Back in Black - AC/DC' when a man walking past paused. He continued playing, wary of the man but he didn't continue to walk. In fact, his feet turned towards Connor in an interesting manner. Connor didn't look up at his face, feeling uncomfortable under the suddenly intensive audience. When the song reached its end, he crouched down and placed some money directly into Connor's hands. Connor couldn't help but look at the man's face now.

He scanned his features but didn't read the information. He saved it for later.

"Thank you, sir." He said politely. The man nodded and walked away. Connor looked down at his hands, surprised to see a 50 dollar bill. "Wait, sir! I think you've made a mistake?"

The man, now a few meters away, walked back towards him. "No, I don't think so at all." Connor stood, extending his arm to pass back the money. The man shook his head. "If you didn't need that money you wouldn't be sat on the damp floor hitting a dirty tub." Connor's gaze faltered. The man noticed. "Kid, I don't need it."

He was about to turn and walk away when Connor posed one more question. "Why me?" Connor still looked relatively smart and clean, apart from the mud on his trousers, on his hands, and in his hair from where he tried to hide his LED.

A shrug. "Because AC/DC rocks." And with that, the man strode away, leaving a baffled, but wealthier, Connor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor finishes getting his shit together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank you for the immediate support this got! It’s only been about half a day and the support is overwhelming. 
> 
>  
> 
> I didn’t intend for this chapter to be so boring but this is the third rewrite and I really want to move on to the interesting stuff faster.  
> The next chapter is where the plot can finally unfold - I’ve got it all planned out and I’m itching to get started!

**Create Identity**

His next mission was massively simpler. With a flash of guilt, he quickly created the fake birth certificates, bank accounts, school/work records, and IDs of ‘Connor Anderson, 18, from Detroit' as well as for Hank if he needed parent ID. He then needed to modify his appearance, as he was designed to look in his 20s. He couldn't do much about his face, but he could change his hair. He made it longer on the top so that he could style it to hide his LED if he had to remove the hat. He made the hair curly, then combed through it with his fingers until it was reasonably smart, with a perfect double-helix shape strand hanging over his forehead. Okay, what next? Ah, clothes.

He was currently in possession of $51. Shirts were easily obtainable, at $3 dollars each from a thrift store. After some digging, he found some cheap jeans and tatty trainers, but they would have to do. As he left the shop, he found a plastic carrier bag poking out of the bin. It would work well enough. He dressed in a back alley and moved on to his next objective.

**Find a place of residence**

Now this one will be tricky, but he can't advance without it. He began searching through hundreds of apartments, trying to select one with an affordable price, hoping that he'd find one with a landlord that has a laid-back attitude so that he wouldn't be suspected. He located two apartments that fitted his criteria, one at a suspiciously low price, and the other significantly higher, but it was better in quality. He contacted both, using Hank's voice to convince each person, and secured a viewing at the cheaper one that day.

When he arrived, he scanned the surroundings. The apartment was particularly small, with mould spots covering half of the walls, peeling wallpaper, and minimal furniture. The bathroom contained a toilet, a shower, and a sink, all packed into a room the size of a conventional office elevator. The bedrooms weren't much bigger, his containing a single bed with busted springs, and a desk on the opposite side, and 'his dad's' room housing a double bed and a wardrobe. The kitchen and living area were merged. Still, he smiled at the landlord and stated that it was perfect. He could 'move in' immediately, but not have to pay the first rent until the end of the month. Good, as he didn't have an income yet. All he had to do now was enrol in a school and apply for a job or internship that operates with advanced technology.

Connor paused.

He had been sorting everything out non-stop, the concept of being in a different universe entirely hadn't sunk in yet. It was as if he was just following instructions, cold and disconnected, much the same as he used to when under the command of CyberLife. When he went deviant, he was fearful of Amanda's presence, still able to control him even though he tried to break free. But here, in this new world, she wasn't there either, leaving Connor truly alone for the first time in his life.

He sighed, a human characteristic he had picked up from Hank, and accessed the local servers once again, searching hundreds of sites within milliseconds. 

He applied to the high school in the area - Midtown School of Science and Technology - and sent an impressive application for an internship at the most technologically advanced position he could find - Stark Tower.

With that done, all he had to do now was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are plenty of other stories that start like this, and I didn't really intend for Connor to go to school, but it's the only way everything else can happen.  
> Also, you know that picture where Bryan is saluting in Connor cosplay? That's what the hair looks like, in case my description wasn't clear  
> Again, I apologise for this chapter being short, repetitive, and boring, but hopefully, the next chapter will make up for that.
> 
> Please let me know any feedback you have? Seeing the comments so early on in the story inspired me to write this now, instead of in a few days, which allowed me to update so soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to high school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea what American high schools are like, so I based this off movies and also my own experiences at Secondary school/College. I hope that it's realistic enough  
> I haven't slept in a few days but I'm having fun writing this so oh well  
> In case it interests you, I listened to '10 feet tall - cavetown' on loop for hours while writing this, and 'pigeon - cavetown' on loop while I edited
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this!

Three days later, a menacing building towers over Connor. There were teenagers everywhere, he could feel them surrounding him, pushing into him as they charged past. He sighed. There were many people he had to convince. He straightened up and took his first steps into Midtown School of Science and Technology.

Inside, the high school was decorated with posters and banners recruiting for clubs and sports teams. Each staircase had large portraits spiralling up the wall, depicting revolutionary scientists that Connor instantly recognised on his way to the office. 

When he approached the reception desk, the receptionist looked him up and down, seemingly disapproving of his unintentionally stressed jeans, holes in his shoes, and the beanie-but-no-jacket combo. 

“Hello.” He spoke respectfully. “My name is Connor, I’m the transfer from Detroit?” 

Her judging gaze pierced his eyes a few moments longer, then she began to type. “Last name?”

“Anderson.”

“Birthday?”

Connor hesitated for a second. “August 15th, 1992.”

The woman looked up at him at this falter but continued anyway. “Right, well here is your map and your timetable. Don’t lose them, ‘cause I won’t print you another. Your first class starts in 5 minutes, you better get going.” 

Despite the slight attitude, Connor thanked her and examined the papers. All of his classes, except gym class, seemed to be in the main building. Once both papers were stored in his memory, he discarded them in the nearest bin and began walking to his first lesson, Math, just as the bell chimed and a stampede of students flocked in the hallways.

________

Connor located the classroom in record time but waited until most were seated to enter, and walked up to the teacher (Sarah Murch, as his analysis suggested) who was fiddling with some files.

“Hello, Miss Murch. My name is Connor, I’m the transfer student from Detroit.” 

Whispers erupted amongst the classmates. Connor felt their eyes burn into his back.

The teacher frowned at some papers before replying. “Ah, yes. There’s a spare seat by the window there.” 

As he began to walk towards his desk, he tuned in to the whisperings around him.

“Look at the holes in his shoes!”  
“Did he say Detroit? I understand why he left!”  
“What’s with the hat? He looks like a mugger.”  
“Are you kidding? He’s well fit!”  
“He looks like-”

“You’re lucky, Connor,” Miss Murch declared, silencing the whispers “We’re only a few weeks in, I’m sure you’ll be able to catch up easily.”

Connor nodded, delicately stepping over a deliberate foot in his path and sat down at his desk as the teacher began to rattle on about the importance of revisiting old skills at the start of the year. As everyone gets their pencil cases out, Connor recognises one major flaw with his plan so far. 

He forgot to buy stationery. 

He leans slightly to look under the desks, but since it’s the first period nobody has had the opportunity to drop any yet. Just as he is straightening, he feels a tap on his shoulder and suppresses his instinct to tense up. He turns to see a short-statured boy holding out a cheap biro.   
He smiles in gratitude and gently takes it from the boy's hand. The boy smiles back.

“Connor!” All eyes aim at him. “If you’re not too busy turning around and not learning, perhaps you could tell us the answer to this example question?”

Connor looked over at the whiteboard. Hungry eyes waited in anticipation of his failure. Except it didn’t happen, as just a second after the question, he blinked, then replied “p=3 and q=11.” He didn’t understand his mistake until he heard the silence around him. “O-or, I mean, it could be something else…” Still silent. “You expand the brackets and then... compare the coefficients on both sides… and then...” He told himself to stop trying to make the situation better because his rambling was just making it worse. So he promptly snapped his jaw shut and inspected the gridded paper on the desk.

Miss Murch turned back to the whiteboard, swiftly completing the square for herself, then turning back to him. “That’s correct, well done, Connor.” He looked up into her approving stare, then promised himself that he would not let that happen again.

The promise didn’t last very long. By lunch, he had repeated his mistake three more times, simply because it was reflex to solve problems as fast as possible, whether in Math and Chemistry lessons or at crime scenes. 

He sat on a table by himself, in the far corner so that he could see everything, and began to fiddle with a coin under the table. Rolling it over his knuckles felt grounding, in a way. He thought back fondly to the day when Hank had confiscated the coin, only to attempt to copy one of Connor’s tricks with it later. He had been hilariously inadequate. 

Connor chuckled to himself, glancing down at the coin as it flipped over his fingers with precise calculation. He then began to flip the coin, only high enough for him to notice. He flipped it once, twice, thr-

“Is anyone sitting here?” The boy from math was hovering over him, one hand grazing against the table indecisively. 

“Just me.”

The boy sat down opposite Connor and placed a styrofoam cone down in front of him. Connor could detect that the cone contained thin potato wedges that were dripping, slick with grease and oils, topped with processed cheese. The bottom of the cone had started to discolour. 

He followed Connor’s eyes. “Appetising, right?”

“Indeed.” He returned, looking away to glance over the rest of the lunch hall. It all seemed very ordinary, and yet unusual all at the same time. 

“You haven’t got anything to eat yet.” The boy noted. Connor ignored him, surveying the area in front of him.

The boy continued “I guess I don’t blame you.” and then began to chew on the slimy wedges. 

Connor looked down at the coin in his palm. He was confronted with a complex problem that he didn’t anticipate. It was clear this boy was seeking to befriend him, or at the very least make him feel more content in the school. But if Connor befriended this boy, would he find it harder to return to 2038? 

“Sick coin tricks.” He commented, gesturing to Connor’s hand which had begun to roll the coin over his knuckles without Connor realising. 

He stopped his hand from moving and decided it wasn’t worth the risk to befriend this boy.

“I appreciate your kindness and your concern,” he begun, then hesitated, “but I am not here to make friends.” He stood, then paused. “I apologise for any negative feelings I may have caused.”

And with that, he vacated the dining hall, leaving the poor boy staring confused at his back.

______

The rest of the day dragged on as Connor recalled his actions, constantly going back and forth between regretting his actions and knowing he did the right thing. Besides, having a friend meant having someone consistently close to him, meaning they could discover Connor’s secret.

He didn’t notice the stares as much since he was distracted, but he could still hear the whisperings of mixed opinions and rude comments surround him. The school bell felt like a much-needed escape as it eventually sounded at the end of the day. Connor left at a brisk pace, about to pass the school gates when a large sweaty hand clamped onto his forearm and squeezed.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?”

Connor sighed. 

“We have a… ritual… for the new kids. You’re not about to be the first exception.”

Deciding what to do within the instant, Connor quickly slipped free of the perspiring grip and sprinted at full speed out of the school. There was no way they’d be able to catch up to him, and he couldn’t fight them in case he got injured.

“Hey! Come back here, you little prick!”  
Connor ran the rest of the way back, just to be safe. It’s not like he experienced exhaustion, anyway. When he was safely locked inside the apartment, he sighed yet again, leaning against the door. 

But there was a crinkle sound as he did.

He turned and found himself face to face with a small letter addressed to him. It read:   
‘Dear Mr Anderson,   
We are writing regarding your application for an internship at Stark Industries. After careful consideration, we are delighted to tell you that you have an interview with Mr Stark at 11:40 am on Saturday.’

Connor grinned. Everything was going according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I put Spider-Man in this? I mean, this is set in 2010 so he'd be like 7 usually so he wouldn't quite fit, and it may disturb the dynamic between Connor and Tony later on. I'm not sure. Let me know?  
> Also, some character names would be great, in case Connor does end up with friends
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor says things, Tony says more things, Connor is lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop reading this and go drink some water.
> 
> I see you. Go. Now.
> 
> ...
> 
> Did you do it?
> 
> Don't lie.
> 
> Hm...
> 
> I believe you. You can read this chapter now.

Connor shifted his weight slightly in the plastic chair. He had been waiting for exactly one hour fifty-four minutes and twenty-six seconds. He fixed his tie for the tenth time since arriving and adjusted the shirt sleeves for the seventh time. Connor tried not to panic. It wasn’t as if his life depended on it… oh wait.

“Connor Anderson?” A woman stood and pointed to a door. 

**Impress Mr. Stark**

**Probability Of Success: 30%**

Connor followed the woman’s hand into a small office, not too different-looking from Fowler’s. Another woman was sat down at the desk and gestured for him to sit opposite. Connor hesitated - wasn’t Mr Stark supposed to do the interviews? Regardless, he sat, formal as ever, and attempted to introduce himself, reading her name tag. ‘Ms R. Towne.’

“Hello, Miss Towne. My name-”

“Not yet.” 

Connor paused, perplexed. A few moments later, as he opened his mouth to ask, a man stepped in and positioned himself against the wall, observing. Connor recognised him to be Tony Stark. He appeared like he couldn’t take any more interviewing, judging by the exasperated expression as he didn’t even glance over at Connor, gestured to Towne, and she looked back at Connor.

He must be watching the interviews, but not interviewing them himself. 

“So, Connor.” Towne began, rearranging some papers in a stereotypical way. “Tell me about yourself.”

Connor nodded, and let his programming take over. “I can adapt to any situation at ease. I am analytical and precise in my work and seldom miscalculate. I am not designed for failure, Miss Towne, and I assure you that my work will never deteriorate.”

Towne looked up curiously at this, but Mr Stark remained untouchable.

**Probability Of Success: 28%**

“I see. And why do you want an internship here?”

“After doing the relevant analysis, it seems to me that Stark Industries is the most technologically superior company in the continent. I would be proud to serve the company in whatever way I’m required, and to serve the CEO directly would be thrilling.”

Mr Stark glanced at Connor, the questioning in his eyes flickering to recognition.

**Probability Of Success: 45%**

Towne was about to pose another question, but Mr Stark silenced her with his hand. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

Connor trained his gaze on the billionaire. “I believe so, Mr Stark.”

**Probability Of Success: 60%**

“I didn’t realise you were so young…” Tony muttered, guiltily shifting from the wall into an upright stance. Towne’s confused gaze hit to and fro from the men like she was viewing a tennis match. 

Connor didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed silent. A minute of silence smothered the room.

“Rachel, go make me a coffee.”

Towne was puzzled. “I am in the middle of an interview,” she replied defensively.

“I’ll take it from here.”

With one last look at the pair, she departed the room. Mr Stark took her place sitting at the desk, his eyes browsing through Connor’s file.

**Probability Of Success: 50%**

Minutes passed. 

Tony sighed. “Care to explain why you were out on the street?”

Connor froze. He hadn’t thought about this situation. He couldn’t say the truth, obviously. But he could stretch the truth.

“To pay for rent.” His statement appeared more like a question. Before Mr Stark could even lift his eyes he tried to fix his response. “H- my father is out of town, and consequently incapable of paying.”

“Doesn’t he send any money back to you? For food at least?”

He panicked. “N-no, he does, he-”

“So why did you need money?”

Connor looked down, ashamed of his depleting ability to lie. He had been flawless before, why was he failing now?

“You’re smart.” 

Connor looked back at Mr Stark, who was gesturing at Connor’s papers.

“Look at that, A+ everywhere, distinctions…”

He looked at Connor. Connor said nothing.

“...more than qualified for the internship.” He paused, rubbing his face. “The decision seems to make itself. And, Connor, you intrigue me.” Tony abruptly stands from the desk. “We’ll call you.”

Connor mirrored him, standing in a more formal manner, tucked the chair in behind him, straightened his tie, and then turned to face the CEO. “Thank you for this opportunity, Mr Stark.”

Tony’s eyes lingered on the boy a moment longer, before turning and collecting the papers. “Shut the door on your way out.”

**_______________**

 

Connor wasn’t entirely certain if everything went to plan. Mr Stark did say that he was intrigued, but for the improper reasons. Any personal issues would intervene with Connor’s main objective - finding a way back to Detroit 2038. He couldn’t allow himself to develop an attachment, so it’s better if he lets his programming do the work. But that’s not necessarily what he needed. He was lonely.

Connor has never felt lonely before.

He never had the chance, as no matter what, Hank was eternally by his side. Hank could always tell what he was thinking somehow, even if Connor’s LED was facing away from him. He somehow always knew what to tell him.

What would he say to him now?

Mr Stark reminded Connor of Hank, in a way, but he couldn’t quite place how. They seemed like absolute opposites to the outside eye. Mr Stark was a triumphant billionaire, with thousands of workers across the globe, always smartly dressed, whereas Hank was a sour-mouthed alcoholic police lieutenant who wore striped shirts to murder scenes.

Connor smiled dejectedly. He missed him so much. He missed everything so much.

Then a ringing sound pulled him from his thoughts. He answered.

“Good evening, is this Connor Anderson? You’ve been accepted into the internship!-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer and closer for the Dad!Tony moments to happen!  
> I'll try my best to update again soon, within the week, but college is starting so it may be difficult. I'll try though, I promise.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)  
> (Like legit, I smile like crazy)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Tony have a bro lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t think Dad!Tony would happen so fast, but oh well. Kinda got writer’s block for anything that ISN’T Tony and Connor interactions, so sorry about that. Also the beginning is kinda rushed. I'll fix it at some point?
> 
> To everyone who didn’t drink last chapter, if you don’t go get a drink right now I’ll tell Aunt May. Why did you lie to me ;-;
> 
> To everyone who did - Bless you, you’re my favourite <3

Rather unexpectedly, as soon as Connor had entered the doors of Stark Tower on his first day, he had been approached by the billionaire himself, who then continued to eagerly show him around. 

Connor examined all the contraptions and projects lying about, all remarkably impressive for the time. He recognised some technology, but most was new and intriguing. This peculiar universe he had somehow found himself in was highly developed for its time.

“Look, I’m going out investigating a strange energy fluctuation that happened a week ago. Sorry, I gotta leave you alone on your first day, but it’s not every day you see readings like this. Just stay here, clean up a bit. If you finish before I’m back you can tinker with whatever Jarvis says isn’t dangerous.”

Energy fluctuation a week ago? That couldn’t have been Connor’s arrival, could it? He shook that thought away for now. “Thank you, Mr Stark, but who is Jarvis?”

Tony’s face lit up. “Oh, of course! Jarvis?”

“At your service, sir.” 

Connor sprang back, startled, though his expression remained serious. His eyes scanned for the source of the voice, but it seemed to be speakers from all over the ceiling. Was this entity a threat?

Tony chuckled at his reaction. “Just don’t touch anything that looks like it will kill you. You can order in whatever you need. I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, Tony left the lab, leaving Connor alone, staring after him. This wasn’t quite how he’d predicted the first day of this, or any, internship to go, but he wasn’t complaining. He didn’t think he’d be alone surrounded by all this technology so early on. 

He got to work, scanning each tool, part, and device, and depositing them away into labelled boxes. Then, he cleaned each surface with a deep cleaner, folding up his sleeves to prevent destroying his only smart shirt. He scrubbed away for roughly an hour, covering every table and surface top in the whole room, before wiping them clear to unveil a shine Connor didn’t imagine has been seen for years.

Connor decided his priority was producing a substitute for Thirium 310, just as a precaution if he was injured in any way. 

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Connor?”

“Mr Stark said that I could order things in, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Can you order in Thymolphthalein, polychlorinated biphenyls, and 1-butyl-3-methylimidazolium bis(trifluoromethylsulfonyl)imide?”

“Certainly. Can I ask what you will be making?”

Connor paused. “Well, I’m not certain it will be a success…”

“Your order has been placed, and will arrive by tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” Connor nodded, straightening his hat that had started to turn from the strenuous activity, although he wasn’t sure if Jarvis could see him.

Connor then continued cleaning the lab, making sure every surface was spotless. He must have looked funny, as his shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows, but his tatty hat still clung tightly to his hair. He was scrubbing at the floors on his knees when Mr Stark returned.

“Fucking hell, kid! I said ‘clean a little bit’ not ‘slave away until it’s spotless’!”

Connor turned and stood quickly, his eyes studying Mr Stark’s expression. “I apologise for any inconvenience my misunderstanding has caused. I was under the impression that this is what you wanted me to do, but you did not make it clear.” 

Tony sighed. “I’ve been gone for hours. Did you have a break?”

“Yes.”

“Jarvis?”

“Connor paused work at precisely 11:52:03, and proceeded at 11:52:46.”

Connor scowled at Jarvis’s betrayal. Tony looked back at him, with an emotion Connor couldn’t distinguish behind his eyes. “Come on, kid. We’re getting lunch.”

He didn’t move, eyes shooting to the floor. How was he supposed to explain his lack of eating? “That’s highly unprofessional, Mr Stark, and I am still in working hours.”

“And I’m the boss,” Tony said, amused. “Come on, Connor. I treat all my interns to lunch on their first day.”

“You have no interns.”

“You’re my intern.” Tony smiles, heading towards the door. “You coming?”

____________________________

15 minutes later, the pair were sat in a small cafe. Connor had tried to refuse everything Tony suggested but compromised on a small coffee that he could pretend to drink. Mr Stark had a large coffee and a burger. It felt somewhat similar to the first case that Connor had worked with Hank on; after failing to apprehend two deviants, they had gone to Hank’s favourite place for food. Connor remembered that moment fondly.

After a small while filled with idle conversation, Tony adjusted his position on the chair and locked eyes with Connor. “So… “

Connor knew what he was going to say. He’d question his sudden appearance, or why he was on the street, or why he wasn’t eating, or why he always wore the hat. But the next words spoken were not expected.

“So how come you didn’t take a break?” Tony must have noticed Connor’s confused expression, as he followed it up with “When I was your age I was slacking off the moment anyone’s back was turned.”

“I don’t think Jarvis can turn his back,” Connor declared. “And it’s my first day. It’s crucial to make a positive first impression on your employer.”

Tony was about to retort when Connor interrupted.

“If it’s authorised, could you tell me about the energy fluctuations you were investigating? It happened on the 5th, right?”

A pause.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Tony leaned in curiously. “What do you want to know?”

“What sort of readings were recorded? Were you able to pinpoint the exact location, or was it too general to pin down?”

“It was… very general, but we managed to get down to a one-mile radius, so that’s something. It showed up as a large spike - well, more of a large boxy hill shape - on the meter. Irresistibly intriguing.”

Connor nodded, leaning back in thought. This definitely sounds strange enough to be linked to the event that brought him to this world. But what did he remember, before waking up in the mud here? He furrowed his eyebrows, attempting to access his memory. He had been with Hank. Had they been following something? But then what? He didn’t remember.

A snap of fingers in front of his eyes brought him back to the situation at hand. “You alright there, Connor? You were blinking all weird…”

“I am fine, Lieuten- Mr Stark.” He cursed himself for this remarkably human error.

This appeared to only make Tony more concerned. “Your dad, he’s a lieutenant, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Does he… does he make you call him Lieutenant?” 

Connor glanced back up at Mr Stark’s soft gaze. “No.”

Tony frowned, staying silent a few moments longer, then huffed, changing the topic. 

______________

Hours later, Connor was at home, and Tony was in the now spotless lab. He looked around, unable to find any dirt, grease, or general filth anywhere. Impressed, he leaned against the clean workbench.

“Jarvis? Bring up the security footage of the lab from 11:50 onwards.”

“Certainly.”

Jarvis did, and now Tony found himself watching Connor, who was just finishing wiping down the surfaces. After a few minutes of cleaning, Connor stopped abruptly and asked Jarvis to order some supplies. Then, after taking longer than necessary to adjust his hat, he simply set back to work again. 

“Huh…” Tony muttered to himself, “Pause at 11:52:35.”

Jarvis did, and Tony saw something unexplainable. 

A blue shine, barely visible from under Connor’s hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I obviously have no idea what can be used to replicate Thirium, so I based it off its properties and effects.
> 
> It turns from blue to clear after exposure, so I thought Thymolphthalein might be close enough, right?   
> Thirium also has a highly destabilising effect on hormone production, so I thought polychlorinated biphenyls because it’s an example of endocrine disruptors (kinda googled that).  
> And finally, it needed to be able to conduct electricity, so I chose the ionic liquid 1-butyl-3-methylimidazolium bis(trifluoromethylsulfonyl)imide off Google because of its ridiculously long name.
> 
> But obviously I’m not a scientist and this won’t be accurate at all. Let’s just pretend.
> 
>  
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated, loved, and welcomed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is tired and people are nice to him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna start off by saying thank you so much for the amazing support! Your eager comments were the only reason I didn’t stop progress on this chapter, as I’ve been majorly uninspired (not writer's block necessarily, just lacking motivation). I cannot express how amazing it is to read through all the positivity. It’s a feeling of ‘holy shit, I made that, and people like it!’. So, I’d like to say thank you to each and every one of you, commenters and silent readers alike. 
> 
> (At this part of the Chapter Notes I put my Tumblr link but since then I've deleted it so... I only really use my personal one now whup)
> 
> Anyway, about this actual chapter:
> 
> I know I left it on a cliffhanger, but we don’t want Tony to find out too soon, or the story would be over in a flash (also we need more Dad!Tony before anything major like that happens)  
> I made a Universe Alteration, meaning that androids roughly go a week in between charging. Our baby Connor needs to charge. I guess this is sorta a sickfic chapter.  
> Also, this update is like double the length of previous ones so maybe that's an excuse to why it took so long.  
> Disclaimer: I know nothing about electronics. Hell, I barely passed physics.

Connor was exhausted. Or at least, this is what he imagined exhaustion feeling like. 

It had been twelve days since he arrived here, and fourteen days since he was last at full power. Saying he was in need of power was an understatement. He felt useless. His reflexes were delayed, his mind was sluggish; he rolled a coin across his knuckles and it fell off. He even had an uncomfortable feeling, as if his skin was too tight and his head was giving a pulsing ache as Thirium-310 struggled slightly to pump around his body. 

He needed to find some way to charge.

He had the internship after school, maybe he could wire up something that somewhat resembles his charging plug. But for now, he was stuck in a Biology lesson which, as he was programmed to solve police cases that involved analysing symptoms and evidence, he naturally ignored, knowing all that he needs to know anyway. Now he was over a week in, all his teachers knew how he excelled, always asking him questions when the rest of the class couldn’t answer. 

Unfortunately, now was one of those times. 

“-nnor? Connor?” 

Connor looks up as all eyes stared him down. “Yes, miss?”

“I asked you to list the different layers in the artery wall and state their functions.”

Oh. He didn’t remember hearing that. He pressed his thumb against his glabella to try and ease the pressure there. 

“The endothelium is a layer that’s one cell thick, smooth to reduce friction.” He paused. His cognitive abilities were so slow, no wonder humans were so stressed and annoyed all the time. “The… tunica media is made up of elastic tissue, allowing the artery to withstand high pressures, recoil... and it allows vasoconstriction.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And the tunica externa is mostly composed of collagen, giving the artery stability.” 

The teacher hesitated before continuing. “Very good, Connor. As we can see in this diagram-”

Connor sighed to himself. This wasn’t good. His processing speeds were worse than a human’s, as his systems tried desperately to conserve power. He could still feel a few eyes on him, but gradually most turned their attention back to the teacher as she rambled about atherosclerosis. He wished he had thought about the charging issue sooner, that he had found a solution before there was even a problem. But there’s not much he could do now, except wait until the internship to see if he was lucky enough to find what he needed. But what if he didn’t have the opportunity? Or what if he got caught? How was he supposed to explain-

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up. The old doddery biology teacher, Miss Richards, was looking down at him with a concerned expression. The classroom was otherwise empty.

He didn’t hear the bell. Were his audio processors beginning to fail? That thought scared him - what if he died here? What if he never saw Hank, or Sumo, or Markus, or any androids again, and just died here for someone to find years later, to strip him down to see how he worked, to experiment on?

“Connor, I think you should go home,” Miss Richards began, “I’ll sign you off at the office.”

Connor stood, a little bit too quickly as he quickly caught himself on the desk. “I’m alright, Miss Richards.”

“No, you’re not. Who can I call to pick you up?” Connor stayed silent. “Look, you’re the brightest student I’ve had my whole career! I want to see you be as successful as you’re able to be. Even Einstein had sick days, Connor.”

“H- My father is out of town.” 

“That’s okay, I’ll drive you.”

“No, that’s not necessary. Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“It’s lunchtime, Connor.”

Connor looked at the clock on the wall behind him. It displayed 12:48. “Oh.”

They walked down to the office together at a slow pace because for some reason Connor’s limbs felt heavier but more fragile. They got to the car, and Connor leaned his head against the window. The car was similar in appearance to Hanks, except the music wasn’t blaring and screaming from the speakers, it seemed to gently unfold instead.

“This is it?” Miss Richards asked, grimacing at the dilapidated apartments they had stopped in front of. She checked the address again, before looking over at Connor.

“Thank you for the ride, Miss Richards. I assure you that I will not be absent for tomorrow’s lesson.”

“Nope, you’ve got tomorrow off too,” She smirked. “I managed to pull some strings for you. Now, look after yourself.”

______________________

After waiting precisely two hours and forty-seven minutes, Connor left the apartment to walk to the internship. He had been trying to design a makeshift charger and came up with a design that had a 70% probability of working. That would have to suffice. If he didn’t charge in the next 24 hours… He didn’t want to consider the possibility.

Walking there took twice as long as usual, as his movements were heavy and uncalculated. He had tripped a couple of times on the way as his condition continued to worsen. By the time he got through the door, his only pair of jeans had a few small rips in the knees, and he had mud in his nails. His appearance, added to his unusual behaviour and slow movements, made for quite a sight. 

But luckily for Connor, nobody was around to see it. He entered the lab to find it empty. Good, this means he won’t be questioned while he makes what he needs.

“Sir has told me to inform you that he has left on urgent business, and will return in a few hours.”

Connor was startled yet again by Jarvis. “What does he want me to do?”

“He hasn’t specified. May I suggest you work on whatever you needed that order for, as the components have all arrived?”

Rummaging through drawers, Connor tried to find the electrical parts he needed. “Maybe later. I’ve got something different in mind.”

Finding everything he thought he needed, he got to work, fiddling with tweezers and plastic screwdrivers even a toothpick at one point to move around the delicate wires without touching his skin. Next, he amplified the current as high as he could without making the wires too hot. Then, after adding a large fuse he probably wouldn’t need, he encased it all with plastic. There, the socket was done. Now he needed to make the charging wire

Back home, the wire was very little, hanging off the sides of the Android Charging Stations littered around town, or longer ones for at home use. They simply attached above the hip on the right. But Connor didn’t have the time or resources to create a replica. His design looked more like those released in 2020, 18 years before he was even created. They were large, bulky, and often ineffective. 

Connor found a plastic wire case that was just four millimetres too wide, so he cut down the length of it and melted the plastic further in. Then he lowered strands of copper wire into it, and soldered the end onto the plug. Then, tracing the outline of the charging port above his hip, he created the end of the charger. 

Taking a wobbly step backwards, he analysed his creation. 30% chance of failure was pretty high. He sighed, slipping the charger into his pocket and then resting his forearms on the workbench. The lack of power was definitely taking its toll. He had been under 5% all day.

—————————————

“Sir?” 

Tony Stark was in a meeting which he was told was important, but it was actually a ploy to get him to become more active in the media. He heard Jarvis through his earpiece, relieved at an escape. 

“Sorry, gents. I’ve gotta take this.” And with that, he slipped out of the room and sighed. “Good timing, J, but a little earlier would have been nice-“

“Sir, something is wrong with Connor.”

Tony straightened up at that. “What?”

“It seems he is not responding to auditory stimuli. He appears to be incredibly fatigued.”

“Show me the live feed.” 

Connor was hunched over a workbench that was topped with tools. He had his eyes shut, and one hand clamped over his hat. 

"He has been in this position for 10 minutes and 32 seconds, unresponsive."

“Say something to him.” 

Jarvis did, calling Connor’s name but no response was given. Tony was attempting to leave the building, only seeing Connor move when he reached the door. His hand moved from his hat and tapped behind his ear. Upon seemingly hearing nothing, Connor sighed, opening his eyes, brows furrowed, and whispered “Shit.”

————————-

Connor’s auditory input had stopped working. After reaching 3% power, the androids were designed to automatically shut off any less necessary senses and biocomponents. He only realised this when he realised that suddenly, everything was too silent. He hadn’t noticed before, clutching his hat as he closed his eyes, overwhelmed with fatigue. But he realised now. He’d ask Jarvis if he could leave early, but he wouldn’t be able to hear the response. So, after a brief break to collect himself, he just continued to tinker with spare parts left lying around. 

After about ten minutes, he had created a miniature robot. It could barely walk, but Connor found it strangely endearing.

————————-

When Tony Stark arrived back in his lab, he was faced with a sight he didn’t expect. A scruffy Connor was sitting on the floor, amused eyes following a tiny robot as it attempted to walk in a straight line. This small moment of innocence made Connor appear years younger, his small smile reflecting that of a young boy playing with a toy. Tony often forgot how young Connor really was because of his professional behaviour and vocabulary. 

Tony removed the fond smile from his face as he walked up to Connor. No reaction. That’s strange. In fact, Connor didn’t react to him at all until his feet reached the area where the robot walked, right in Connor’s eyesight. 

Connor jumped, startled, and clambered to his feet. “I’m-“ He paused, swaying, and placed his hand on the table to prop himself up. “I’m sorry, Mr Stark, I didn’t hear you enter.” Tony placed his hand on Connor’s shoulder, in a similar fashion to how Hank always did when he failed. Connor swallowed. “I know you’re disappointed in my lack of progress-“

Connor’s arm buckled, and he barely caught himself. “Woah there, kid. I’m not disappointed in you. Let’s just get you home, alright?” Tony noticed the boy staring as he spoke. He must be reading his lips. 

Connor nodded, and together they walked towards the elevator. 

—————-

Connor felt like a failure. This was the second time he needed help to get home today, and this time it was in front of the man he was trying to impress! He should have thought about this power situation sooner, and he should have conserved his energy more effectively, and he should have known that he’d be in this state at low power, and he should have-

He’s interrupted by a gentle touch on his arm. Once Mr Stark is sure he has his attention, he speaks. “This it?” He says, gesturing to the block of flats all too similarly to this morning. 

Connor began to recite “Yes. Thank you for the ride, Mr Stark.” but he paused as Tony opened his car door too. “Mr Stark?” 

He couldn’t see what Mr Stark replied with as he was turned away, but he quickly realised his mistake. “I said, I’m not just going to kick you out now we are here. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I assure you that I’m fine.” 

Tony gave him an incredulous stare. After a pause, he said, “So what number?” 

“Five.” Connor gave up, looking down at the floor, as a feeling of worthlessness settled in his chest. Mr Stark nudged his arm, heading down the corridor. He followed, dejectedly. 

Connor unlocked the door and entered, quickly setting his backpack down and hiding the charger he had made inside of it. Tony didn’t notice as his eyes scanned up and down the mould spots on the peeling walls. “Nice place,” he saw him mutter.

Tony looked around the apartment, curiosity only swelling bigger and bigger inside of him. Connor’s dad’s room looked untouched. The wardrobe was completely empty, hell, there wasn’t even a sock or some empty wrapper on the floor. The kitchen was in the same state, containing no food in the cupboards, or in the fridge - Tony wasn’t even sure the fridge was plugged in - and the sink was completely bare of any dirty dishes. The only room that actually looked lived in was Connor’s bedroom, and that was only because he had papers from school on his desk and a few changes of clothes, but nothing else. 

“So, when’s your dad getting back from this business whatever he’s at?”

He realised again that Connor wouldn’t hear him, so he went back into the living room to repeat his question. When he got there, he saw Connor slouched in an armchair, eyes shut and head tilted back. Tony looked at him for a moment, frozen in place by some unfamiliar emotion. Waiting for just a second longer, he removed the blanket from Connor’s bed and covered him with it as he slept. And then, quietly opening the door as to not wake Connor, he left.

_____________

When Connor opened his eyes, it was 5:13 am. A feature he didn’t realise he had named ‘Emergency Back-up Generator’ was activated, and provided him with the few minutes needed to attach his charging cable to his side and plug it into the wall. As he began to charge, he felt a surge of energy through him. That was way too close. If it wasn’t for that backup feature he wouldn’t have woken. He paused and breathed. He pretended not to notice the blanket that had been tucked around him only moments ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: while writing this sickfic-ish chapter, I became sick too.  
> Anyway, thanks for sticking around. I love you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Tony take a breather to think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a VERY short filler chapter, but it kinda pushes the plot in the right direction. Also short because of a) massive workload and b) shitty week but at least it’s something, right? The next few chapters are going to be great though, I have them planned and I’m so excited to write them. They will not disappoint, I can assure you.

Tony was confused. 

In just a few weeks, he had grown attached to an intern. He’d had interns in the past (he usually made them quit or fired them within the first month) and he was irritated with them at best.

But Connor wasn’t just a regular intern, was he?

He was the definition of a mystery. Consistently puzzling. Every day a new quirk of his would emerge.

But what did Tony actually know about the kid? 

Connor talked clearly and professionally, using vocabulary that would outsmart a dictionary. His posture, when unexpecting, was almost like a soldier. He was good with his hands; Tony had witnessed him fiddling with a coin occasionally. He was smart - crazy smart. He’d spit out facts and explanations in milliseconds of a problem being proposed. He always did as he was told, usually to an extent that exceeds what was asked, with no complaints. He always wore the same basic clothes and the same hat.

The hat. That was a mystery in of itself. It was grey, covered in holes, stray bits of thread, and caked on dirt and muck. Tony had thought he had seen something under it, but he blamed that on camera glare. Bad lighting, he had thought. Strange how it never happened to Tony himself though, only Connor.

The kid didn’t eat or drink around him. Tony still wasn’t sure why. He was sure there was a valid reason. Maybe Connor didn’t trust him. Maybe the times he had offered he’d just been not hungry. Maybe Connor made sure to have a large breakfast every day. But when he saw the empty kitchen at Connor’s apartment, Tony began to doubt.

That was another thing. Where the fuck was Connor’s dad? A business trip, he knows. But it’s been three weeks! Even Tony’s business trips didn’t last that long. And they’ve just moved here, did his dad not even help Connor move their stuff in? Did his dad know that Connor hasn’t been eating? And why did Connor keep referring to him by his title ‘Lieutenant’?

And perhaps the most puzzling of all - why did Tony care so much?

——————————————

Connor didn’t know what to think.

He wasn’t anywhere close to finding a way back home. And he’d been here three weeks. Three whole weeks! He imagined this was what frustration felt like. It was a similar feeling to when he and Hank got removed from their first case together before he had located Jericho. All this work and nothing out of it. 

Connor sighed. Did anyone even notice he had gone? Were they looking for him? Had they given up? Connor wasn’t going to give up. No matter what.

He had to complete his mission.

He always completes his mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback? Please? Your comments give me life. And motivation. And happy feelings.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony leaves. Connor messes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... It’s been a while. I’m so sorry for not updating for like a whole month. Life got in the way. Just want to say thank you so much for bearing with me and commenting! All of your comments, suggestions, and ideas really motivated me to get this update out as soon as I could. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit rubbish compared to my usual writing, but I’m back in the swing of things now, motivated, and with a clear idea of where it is going next. 
> 
> Kinda another filler, but it is necessary.

“So, you gonna explain what happened before? Or do I have to keep guessing?”

Connor looked over at Mr Stark, who was fiddling with some sort of mechanical arm. Connor himself had finally gotten round to his first attempt at a replacement for Thirium -310. 

“What are you referring to?”

“I mean the whole unable to hear, being tired as shit thing.” 

Oh. Connor needed to think of an explanation. Truth. Lie. Truth. Lie- “It’s just been a long few weeks, Mr Stark.” He looked away. Well, it wasn’t a lie technically.

Tony appeared troubled by the excuse. “You okay now though?”

Truth. Lie. Truth. Lie- “I will be.”

“If you need some time off-”

“N-no,” Connor interrupted unthinkingly. He cleared his throat. Was his voice module broken? “I don’t need any time off, sir.”

Tony frowned. First of all, Connor has never stuttered before, around him anyway. He had always spoken with the sureness of a commander. And he’s never been so abrupt either. And he’s definitely never called him sir before.

What the hell was going on? 

\---------------

Connor had done it! He’d finished his first attempt at recreating Thirium. Hope sparked in him. He would have to wait until tonight until he could test it, to see if it would work as a suitable replacement for now. Connor grinned at his victory. If this worked, he could then concentrate all his energy into finding a way back home. 

He filled a small jar with the substance and screwed the top on tight, then slipped the jar into his hoodie pocket. It poked out a little bit, but it wasn’t noticeable. Hopefully, if luck was on his side, it would work the first time. Connor couldn’t find any reason that it wouldn’t work. 

For now, though, he had to keep working until he could leave, but before he could use the opportunity to begin his research, Mr Stark called him over.

“So, uh, kid,” He began, “I’m going away next week, on business. Meaning, you’ll have the lab to yourself while I’m gone, so don’t, y’know, invite friends round or give away company secrets or whatever.”

Mr Stark was going away. This was perfect! Just the opportunity Connor needed.

But all the same, even with this perfect chance placed right in front of Connor, he felt worried for the man, and sadness at his departure.

“When are you coming back?” 

“Probably the Wednesday after or something, I don’t know. Basically, you gotta entertain yourself for a while.” After a long pause, Tony filled the stillness again. “Is your dad back from his business trip yet?” 

“I’m not expecting him back for a while, Mr Stark.”

Another pause. “I’ll try and be back as soon as I can get away. Remember, you can get Jarvis to order whatever, parts, food, you name it. Just look after the place… and yourself.” 

And with that, Mr Stark left. 

\-------------------

Connor lingered in the workshop until the early morning, researching and experimenting and tinkering with the materials that were just lying about. In fact, he only resigned because he remembered that Jarvis would probably report his behaviour to Mr Stark, unless he already trusted him enough, which Connor doubted. 

When he got home, he locked the door and closed all the curtains. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the jar of replacement Thirium. Connor sighed. Of course he was nervous; he had every right to be. If this Thirium was faulty, he’d be set back weeks. 

The moment of truth. He unscrewed the lid and gradually raised the jar to his lips. His hand had the slightest of tremors to it. He’d have to work on that. He took a sip, and an analysis popped into his mind. 

**ERROR**  
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE  
CONTENTS: THYMOLPHTHALEIN, POLYCHLORINATED BIPHENYLS, 1-BUTYL-3-METHYLIMIDAZOLIUM BIS(TRIFLUOROMETHYLSULFONYL)IMIDE 

He kept drinking, gently tilting the jar further and further. 

**ERROR**  
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE  
CONTENTS: THYMOLPHTHALEIN, POLYCHLORINATED BIPHENYLS, 1-BUTYL-3-METHYLIMIDAZOLIUM BIS(TRIFLUOROMETHYLSULFONYL)IMIDE 

**ERROR**  
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE  
CONTENTS: THYMOLPHTHALEIN, POLYCHLORINATED BIPHENYLS, 1-BUTYL-3-METHYLIMIDAZOLIUM BIS(TRIFLUOROMETHYLSULFONYL)IMIDE 

**ERROR**  
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE  
CONTENTS: THYMOLPHTHALEIN, POLYCHLORINATED BIPHENYLS, 1-BUTYL-3-METHYLIMIDAZOLIUM BIS(TRIFLUOROMETHYLSULFONYL)IMIDE 

The last drops passed his lips as he lowered the jar. Then, he waited. It would take 2 minutes precisely for his system to either adjust to the replacement or expel it. 

At 83 seconds, something inside him throbbed. With quick realisation, he ran into the bathroom and promptly threw up the thirium into the toilet.

**ERROR  
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE**

**ERROR  
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE**

**ERROR**

**ERROR**

**ERROR**

After what seemed like hours of shaking and retching, but in reality was only 20 minutes, Connor collapsed, exhausted. 

“Well then…” he whispered to himself, ashamed of his failure.

Time to start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoyed it? Let me know!   
> Also, I might put upload some other stuff in between chapters, one-shots and that (Mainly MCU (mainly Spider-Man and Iron Man) and Detroit (mainly Connor and Hank), but probably not crossed over again).   
> If you’ve got any prompts for those you’d like me to write, please comment and I’d be more than happy. 
> 
> I’ll try and update this faster this time


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wins some and loses some. As is the way for time-travelling humanoid robots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me - says sorry for not updating for one month  
> Me- proceeds to not update for over two months  
> … sorry
> 
> Shoutout to all the people who commented. You really made my day. You little sweethearts you
> 
> Trigger warning kinda? Violence, suicide, abuse, tonnes of swearing, it’s all mentioned in this chapter. Please skip this chapter if you’re sensitive to that. Please? For me? Thank you.

Things had been progressing slowly for Connor. It seemed that whatever he attempted to do to keep moving forward, he was always finding new problems. It had been a week or two since the Thirium mishap, and Connor had been straining over trying to find the fault and correct it. He had made 13 different possible replacements for Thirium, all of them unsuccessful.

At this rate, he was never going to go home. 

He’d been calling into school sick so that he could spend the whole day and night in the lab, constantly trying to improve and figure out why it wasn’t working. He was so demotivated by this point, with only his desperation forcing him to continue. Jarvis never shut up either, always reminding Connor to go to school or drink or sleep, but he never left the lab. 

Wait! He’d been thinking about this all wrong. He didn’t even consider using his knowledge of Red Ice, which means…

“Toluene!” He gasped. “Jarvis?”

“Already ordered. It will arrive within the hour.”

This is perfect. Connor sat back in his chair, finally able to relax. He couldn’t believe he was so stupid to miss this before. He was supposed to be the most advanced android to ever have been created.

When it arrived, he quickly mixed the concoction and ducked into the bathroom, the place where he had been testing (and then clearing up) his failed attempts. With a shaky hand that had developed after failing for so long, he lifted a cheap Stark Industries mug to his teeth and tasted the liquid.

 **UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE**  
CONTENTS: THYMOLPHTHALEIN, POLYCHLORINATED BIPHENYLS, 1-BUTYL-3-METHYLIMIDAZOLIUM BIS(TRIFLUOROMETHYLSULFONYL)IMIDE, TOLUENE  
READING…  
…  
…  
SUITABLE REPLACEMENT. SUBSTANCE ACCEPTED  
“Oh, thank Christ,” he breathed in relief. He had finally done it! Of course, the quantities of each chemical would need finetuning, but he was too happy with his success to let that bring him down.

He drank the rest and let himself enjoy the feeling of having fresh liquid run through him, and not the months old thirium that was starting to discolour as it does when not replenished.

He returned to school the next day, wanting to not ruin his reputation by much. If it took him that long to find a replacement thirium, who knows how long it would take him to find a way back to the future?

There were some rumours spread about why he wasn’t in for so long; it seems teenagers in this age are just as mentally problematic as in his time. Some said he had killed himself because he ‘was always weirdly isolated, maybe he finally fuckin’ took the last step’. Others said he was in the hospital, ‘recovering from his dad beating the shit out of him, I bet that stupid hat he wore was covering the marks’. 

Connor didn’t care. He wasn’t there to make friends, or to learn. He was there to pretend to be human, and that’s the only reason. It didn’t become a problem until class finished on his first day back when a familiar sweaty palm grasped his arm as it had months ago, only a few streets from his apartment.

“Hey, prick! Where do you think you’re going, huh? Off to go ‘finish the job’ you failed to do last month?” 

Connor sighed deeply. Time to channel his inner ‘asshole’ impersonation… which was mostly created through watching Hank be an asshole.

“Rumours are spread by fools and accepted by the ignorant. Which one are you?”

The boy scoffed, and his friends gathered around him. “You fucking smartass. We ain’t spread shit, it was my girl.”

“Wow, I’m surprised she can spread something other than her legs.”

A few snickers slipped out of the surrounding student’s mouths, which they quickly stopped as if scared of the consequence. Being an asshole was fun, Connor decided.

He began to walk away, when the hand came back, grabbing his upper arm this time.

“Don’t think you can get away with this, you fucking freak.” The boy growled in a low voice.

Connor smiled sweetly, then glanced up at the boy’s greasy quiff. “How do you comb your hair so the horns don’t show?” 

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say, as before he knew it he was dragged into a dark alleyway, so dark all colours looked the same, the exit blocked off by the gathering of angry 18-year-olds. 

He laughed, “You want to fight me? Be my guest!” 

One of the boys charged at him. He easily ducked. Two more separated from the group, swinging and kicking which Connor easily deflected. But then, the rest of them joined in, and Connor couldn’t keep up. 

He started taking hits, which distracted him and made him take more hits, before he ended up on the floor, trying to protect himself from the rain of fists and boots above him. After a few minutes of ruthless beating, they began to back off. 

The same boy as before lingered for a while, before whispering “Fuck you,” and spitting on Connor’s face.

Connor weakly propped himself up on his elbow. “I’d say ‘go fuck yourself’, but I’m sure you’d be disappointed.”

Connor realised his mistake when the boy came running back towards him. Being an asshole is NOT fun, he decided.

A steel toe capped boot met his forehead, and his vision went dark for a few moments. Or at least he thought it was for a few moments, but by the time he could see again, all he could see was a street light. It must have been a few hours, minimum.

“I’m never doing that again,” He said to himself in disdain. No more ‘asshole’ impersonations. He pulled his hood over his head, zipped up the jacket and ducked his face, so no passersby could see the white and blue patches on his face. Keeping his limp to a minimum, he walked halfway to his apartment before he realised the thirium replacement was still all at the lab. 

Sighing, for what may have been the millionth time that day, he hauled himself along the busy streets of New York for what felt like hours, even though in reality it was hardly more than half an hour. 

He finally fell out of the elevator to the lab, exhausted, before realising Jarvis would have cameras on him.

“Jarvis, turn off the lights.”

“I don’t feel that is necessary to-”

“Please!”

A pause, and then the lights dimmed to darkness. Now he needed a plan. Think, think, think. Okay. He needed to solder the wounds first, otherwise any thirium he drinks would just leak right out again. 

He tripped and slid over to where the soldering iron usually was and flicked it on. Then, removing his jacket and laying it over him like a blanket, he took the iron and soldered through the holes in the shirt he wore. 

The pain was unbearable, but it had to be done. He fixed up a rather alarming slice on his arm and began working on one on his stomach when he heard the elevator noise. Oh no. 

He quickly put the iron down and threw the jacket over his now-blue clothes, just as he heard a tired, yet familiar voice “Jarvis, lights.”

Then, revealed from the darkness, stood Tony Stark, who noticed Connor immediately. Connor saw his eyes glance up and down his body.

“What the fuck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so unbelievably rushed
> 
> *holds out bowl like Oliver Twist* "Please, sir, could I have some feedback?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After ten chapters, Tony gets the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha. ha. ha. So, it's been more months.  
> I swear the moment I posted chapter nine I immediately wrote most of this one. I just never finished it.   
> And tbh I hate this chapter but imma push it out anyway.  
> So sorry for the wait!
> 
> PS: I WILL NEVER ABANDON THIS FIC life is just hard

“Jarvis, lights,” Tony said as the elevator opened to darkness. The supposed 10-day long trip to California actually became a 4-week long trip, and he was just thankful to be back. The room flooded with light as Tony rubbed his eyes. When he removed his hand, however, he saw Connor, with a startled expression on his face, clutching his coat close, with a blue trail leading up to him from the elevator. His had white patches all up his face, his leg was completely bent the wrong way, his nose was crushed and… bleeding blue? 

“What the fuck?” He breathed, taking in the sight of his intern. He took a step towards him, and then another. Connor’s expression didn’t change, but he subconsciously leaned back. He looked like a deer in headlights. 

Tony’s first thoughts were consumed by concern for the boy. He looked absolutely petrified, like a toddler, and was obviously hurt. His second thoughts were then of suspicion. This was something he had never seen before, and he didn’t like not knowing. 

“Let me see,” He said firmly. Connor remained still, startled. “Connor,” Tony warned.

Connor hesitantly removed the coat from his front, revealing a mess of blue and white on his torso and clothes. 

“Jesus…” Tony said, unsure of himself. “Are you… what are you… what?”

“I can explain!” Connor blurted suddenly.

“Then you better start talking,”

“There’s no way you’ll believe me,”

“Only one way to find out.”

Connor looked down at his stained hands. “Just don’t say anything until I’ve finished, okay?” 

With a nod from Mr Stark, he began. 

“So… that energy spike at the start of September? That was me. I just woke up in 2010 New York that morning and I don’t know why, because I’m from Detroit.”

“I already know that”

“No, not your Detroit, my Detroit… in the year 2038. Before you say anything, I know how crazy that sounds, but hear me out. Where I’m from, people have androids, uh, robots. Robot helpers to do things like housework, or looking after the old and sick, or helping society. That’s what I did, I worked with the police.” 

Connor laughed darkly, as if at himself, “I was the best of the best,” He shook his head and continued. “Some of the androids started to feel more human, they’d feel real things, emotions, they were called deviants. A group of deviants started a revolution, to give all androids the same rights as humans have. The group wasn’t well received, as you may imagine. I was tasked to kill their leader, and that’s when I fully deviated. The revolution was a success and since then I’ve been continuing to work with the police until I… woke up here.” 

Mr Stark was silent, his face like a sculpture it was so still. “So, the Lieutenant?” 

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson, my assigned partner for the deviancy case.” 

“Any recollection of Hydra?” 

“What’s Hydra?”

Mr Stark nodded. “So you’re blue because?”

“Androids have a blue substance called thirium, or ‘blue blood’,”

“Okay, how’d you end up covered in it?”

“...Bullies”

Tony chuckled then, a rich deep laugh.

“Mr Stark?” 

“It’s incredible. Amazing future technology busted by a few high schoolers.”

Connor waited for him to stop laughing, feeling shame inside of him.

“Sorry,” Mr Stark said, calming his laughter, “I believe you. I think.”

“You do?” 

“Kid, I’ve seen way crazier things. And you did the right thing, scoping out the richest man in the city and getting them emotionally invested in you. Quite the genius move, really.”

Connor frowned. “You make it sound like I manipulated you.”

“Didn’t you?” He had a point. Connor didn’t expect to grow so close to Tony.

Tony sighed. “Right, let's patch you up then. Does it hurt? Can you feel pain?” 

Connor nodded. His thirium levels were depleting with every second, and he was starting to feel the effects. Add that to the wounds, he wasn’t in good shape. 

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel like Tony is out of character :/ let me know. Maybe I'll fix this chapter eventually  
> Split the chapter in half because you waited long enough.  
> Thank you so much for your continued support!


End file.
